A vacation of biblical proportions...

The life of the pseudo-unemployed pastor is a strange one. What I currently have in abundance is available time (though somehow still not enough to post these photos in a timely fashion), hopefully more than I'll have for the next few decades. What I currently don't have is an income. So, as we looked at our calendar towards the end of the summer before the onslaught of volleyball officiating assignments through the fall, we noticed that we had several pockets of time without any commitments. We knew it wouldn't be prudent to plan any sort of exotic vacation in our current situation, but it just so happens that my aunt Mary Ann has acquired almost enough timeshare points to be able to book three weeks of vacation on the international space station. And since she rarely travels into space, she sometimes has unused points that she is so generously willing to share with us. So, after a confirmation conversation about her points status and some online research, we were able to ascertain that we could book a last-minute vacation. Actually, we found two separate slots at two of our favorite destinations on back-to-back weeks, so we set out for what quickly became known as our Double Vacation.

Vacation #1 was spent with my parents, sister, brother-in-law, and nieces (who had already been planning this trip without us, since we didn't know our availability when they planned it many months ago) at Atlantic City. Julia had been to the beach last year, but we anticipated that she'd appreciate it more this time. We didn't necessarily anticipate that she would sprint as fast as she can run directly into the ocean with utter glee and reckless abandon. In fact, had I not insisted that she hold my hands (that is, once I caught up to her), she would most likely still be swimming, attempting to complete the first trans-Atlantic swim by a toddler. (Seriously, it's not been done before.) She absolutely loved the ocean, splashing and kicking and laughing every time a wave crashed into her, even if it knocked her over and threw salt-water into her eyes. Much to my chagrin, she acquired her mother's beach affinity (despite my continuing whispers that a shark might jump out of the water and bite off her limbs).

Even though the air temperature was cool, she had no interest in leaving the beach, no matter how much her teeth were chattering. So, we adopted the towel-mummy technique in a feeble attempt to keep her somewhat warmer, which was actually surprisingly effective.

We don't typically stash open suitcases around our house, so Julia took the opportunity to create her own special reading nook.

One of our primary excursions was to the Atlantic City Aquarium, a charming little place which was sufficiently exciting to entertain the three girls for several hours.

As we went back out to the beach on subsequent days, Julia discovered that the sand offers an entirely different set of fun to enjoy from the ocean. To summarize, her feet and her daddy's feet were buried and uncovered exactly 8.2 million times.

Biking on the boardwalk is an Oberholtzer beach vacation tradition. One minor complication was the apparent fact that the bike rental company was not prepared for a 15-month-old scalp size, as the smallest helmet would have fit perfectly on three of Julia's heads. She was not enamored with that helmet as it continually wrapped around her face. But once we removed the cranial hindrance, it was a delightful time.

We thoroughly enjoyed the colored water show at the Pier Shops at Caesars on the boardwalk.

Here's the view from our balcony on the 27th floor, with Hurricane Irene brewing in the background. But before we get to the Hurricane, I'll just mention that 27 floors is a long way to be suspended off the ground to encounter another epic force of nature, our very first earthquake. We were all hanging out in my parents' unit when I started to feel a bit queasy. I laid down on the couch and was about to let everyone know that I didn't feel well, when I then noticed that the chandelier in the kitchen was swinging. So, the nature of my comment changed to something like, "Does anyone else think that this building is moving?" After we agreed that we all felt weird, we called down to the front desk, which was unreachable. (Cue the swelling emotions of angst and concern.) Eventually, we got through and were told that they felt the same thing and were checking to see if we should do anything. In the meantime, I went down to our unit, hopped online, and noticed that dozens of friends were posting their earthquake experiences on Facebook. So, having confirmed the nature of the disturbance and realizing that the building was no longer swaying, we began to feel better. Still, the next time I experience an earthquake, I'd rather be closer to the ground. I'm still wrestling with the existential question of whether I'd prefer to drown or be crushed if I was on the 27th floor of a building that collapsed into the ocean. I've decided that I'll pass on any opportunity to personally experience those options.

Here's our gang with a beautiful ocean sunset in the background. As always, we had a wonderful time with the Oberholtzer/Lee families. The girls are old enough to start to play together, and Julia got a kick out of watching Lydia and Clara. It's certainly a different sort of vacation than what we did pre-kids (decidedly less in-depth, theological/philosophical conversation, for some reason), but it's a special thing to spend time together.

We were actually booked for an extra day after the rest of the family went home, but that all changed when Hurricane Irene came crashing into the Jersey shore. After poo-pooing the whole thing, as I am wont to do, it became increasingly clear that this hurricane was serious business. And after receiving two memos slipped under our door alerting us to the official state of emergency and mandatory evacuation that was to begin on the morning of our check-out day, we decided to beat the evacuation and get ourselves inland as soon as possible. After a late-evening packing party, we headed westward about 16 hours earlier than we had originally planned and made a late-night trip to Lancaster, without any problems.

We then spent the weekend back home in Boalsburg, with just enough time to let the hurricane pass through the East Coast, after which we headed back east for Vacation #2. This one took us through Lancaster, where we dropped off Julia with my parents for her first overnight (actually three nights) without her mom. Kate and I headed to Williamsburg for a few days of kid-free bliss. And true bliss it was. Here are all of the pictures from the trip.

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Oh, that's right, we didn't take any pictures because we didn't really do anything. We never actually went into Colonial Williamsburg. We didn't go to Busch Gardens. We didn't do any sight-seeing.

We slept. We read. We talked. We ate. We went to the pool. We went outlet shopping. We took a trip to Virginia Beach to hear my seminary buddy Adam Bradshaw preach at his church. Then we ate. We read. We talked. And we slept.

It was simple. And it was marvelous.

And after a few days of enjoying simplicity and quiet, we drove back to Lancaster to pick up our little girl, who we missed very much. And she had such a wonderful time with her grandparents that I'm pretty sure she didn't know that we were gone.

So, the Oberholtzer Double Vacation of 2011 was memorable and fabulous in so many ways. Good times with extended family. Good times for the three of us. Good times for the two of us. Harrowing adventures with nature. And all of it thanks to a generous aunt who so willingly gave us two free stays at magnificent resorts and two loving parents who happily took care of our Julia to let us get away. We're richly blessed. We know it. And we're so thankful...